Enthusiasm
by LibertyRoll
Summary: Imagine: You're from the richest family in Bath, quite pretty, and have all the connections you need to be a highly eligible match for any man you choose. Unfortunately, Margaret's first choice, Henry Tilney, doesn't really like her - Northanger Abbey fic
1. Chapter 1

The richest family in every city is held, not only in high esteem, but also in high fashion; the Thyme family in the city of Bath was looked on as the example of the finest society. On the particular night when this story begins, three of the four members of the Thyme family were seated in their beautiful carriage. Margaret Thyme stared out of the coach window watching the beautiful people of Bath run to and fro, squabbling with each other, and not knowing quite what to do with themselves at two and twenty 'o clock. She sighed as her heart pounded with excitement; the Witkens family had invited the Thyme family for Mariah Witkens' birthday ball, and Margaret had been buzzing about town for the whole week previous in search of the perfect shawl. Now dressed in her white silk shawl and blue satin gown, Margaret and her father and mother made their way to the Witkens' family home.

"Do you suppose it's a very large house?" Margaret asked her mother.

"Pay you no mind to the size of the building, Margaret," replied her mother. "Though it does not matter as ours is much grander."

As the coach pulled up to the Witkens home, Margaret observed that, though it was indeed a large house, it was still a good deal smaller than her own home; the building in front of her now was but two stories high and could not have been 100 feet wide. The Thyme family ascended the stairs with all the elegance becoming the richest family in Bath; however, Margaret's thoughts drifted inside and could even now foresee the well-looking people inside as well as many handsome young men ripe for the marrying. As Margaret entered the modest mansion, she found her imagination had deceived her as she could see only a sea of pink and blue gowns that clothed older women. Indeed, the only men to be seen were the servants and husbands of the old women.

She walked through the rooms admiring the general splendor, which was not quite as grand as her own home as her mother had predicted, though it was very lovely in its own way. Through the laughter and noise of multiple hundreds of voices, Margaret could hear the lively music being played in the grand hall and she set off in search of more age-appropriate society.

She succeeded to navigate her way toward the hall and found, to her great pleasure and relief, many of her acquaintance and age. To give her more satisfaction still, there were several handsome young gentlemen in the room as well, for a rich young lady not yet one and twenty is most attentive to all such details.

For the next hour, she talked with girls of her own acquaintance, danced with many a young man, and had as much fun as she cared to have. The following hours provided much of the same diversions, and, as mid-party approached, she could have believed that she had met and danced with every young man in the entire city of Bath save for the one man who was seated on the sofa near the room's wall.

He was very tall and very close to being handsome if he wasn't completely a well-looking man. He was speaking to a woman who looked to be a close relation of his. Margaret's curiosity enveloped her, and she addressed William Witkens.

"Do you know that man over there?" Margaret asked, nodding in the man's direction.

"Yes, indeed," replied Mr. Witkens. "His name is Henry Tilney and he is a distant cousin of ours. He happened to be coming to Bath for two days and so my mother insisted on inviting him and his sister to stay while Henry engaged more permanent lodgings."

Margaret fell into a moment of thoughtful silence before expressing her wish to be introduced to him. Soon enough, Mr. Witkens and Miss Thyme had made their way over to the sofa adjacent to the wall. "Mr. Tilney," said Mr. Witkens. "May I introduce to you Miss Margaret Thyme, the daughter of Lord Ambrose Thyme?"

Mr. Tilney stood to his feet. "You may indeed," he answered. "Miss Thyme, I am delighted to make your acquaintance." He bowed.

"I hear from your cousin," began Margaret, "that you're only staying two days in Bath."

"I leave the day after tomorrow." Mr. Tilney glanced over to his cousin, nodded slightly, and then turned his attention back to Margaret. "Would you like to take a seat, Miss Thyme? I see that you have been on your feet all night."

"Thank you, Mr. Tilney," thanked Margaret as she took her seat next to the lady that she had seen before.

"Miss Thyme, I present to you my sister, Miss Eleanor Tilney."

Margaret smiled at Miss Tilney. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. How long are you to be here in Bath, Miss Tilney?"

Eleanor smiled and Margaret was pleased with this young woman's friendly air. "I have been in Bath for only a day here at the Witkens' home while my brother finds us lodgings. My father, General Tilney, wishes to stay for about a month, and he will be joining us in one week."

"Your father is General Tilney!" exclaimed Margaret, who was surprised. "Truly?"

"Have you heard of him, Miss Thyme?" inquired Mr. Tilney.

"Yes, indeed! My brother, Jack Thyme, was under his command in France."

"Oh, I see. Have you ever been to France, Miss Thyme?"

"Twice, sir. Yourself?"

"Never, I'm sorry to say. I hear Paris is particularly lovely at this time of year."

The ladies and gentleman continued talking in this attitude for the next while and at the end of their conversation, Margaret felt that her acquaintance with Mr. and Miss Tilney must continue. As she, her mother and her father rode home in their carriage, Margaret's mind and heart fluttered as butterflies would from daisy to daisy on a warm spring day. She was silent the whole ride home for her thoughts were engrossed with the smart smile of Mr. Tilney.

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**Thanks for reading! If you find some storyline error, please contact me (I'm pretty sure I got rid of them all...) Please, review and tell me what you thought! Your opinions and encouragement mean so much to me.**

**Disclaimer: Mr. Henry Tilney, Miss Eleanor Tilney, and General Tilney don't belong to me, but everyone else does. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed to my last chapter! It was very much appreciated and very encouraging.**

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Since the night that afforded Miss Margaret so much pleasure, nothing but smiles and all things delightful filed through her mind. Her parents and servants noticed a slight skip in her step, a brighter glow in her cheek, as well as a slight more curl in her hair. She wore her favorite dress the day after the party, and decided that she would go to the lower rooms that night so that she might meet Mr. Tilney again; she was quite distressed, however, when she discovered that, out of her entire wardrobe, she had nothing to wear that was good enough for the second meeting of her Mr. Tilney. In consequence, she spent the entire morning running around Bath accompanied by her manservant, Charles Northwright; he had not the appetite for shopping for, on their arrival home, he exclaimed that he never would have guessed that dress shopping should take so long. Margaret, however, felt that they had not enough time to properly shop for the right dress, not forgetting the tedious amount of time it would take to do her hair and make her ready.

Indeed, they were so short on time that Margaret proclaimed it a miracle to be into the barouche by 22:30. To avoid the punctuality that others might consider unfashionable, she demanded that they extend the carriage ride by taking the long way to the lower rooms; she succeeded in arriving fifteen minutes past the time she was expected and, in doing so, preserved her family's reputation for being fashionable.

She was horrified on her arrival to see that the rooms were very crowded; so much so that she almost thought to consider leaving. Surely she would have if not for the distant sound of Mr. Tilney every thirty seconds, for a girl in love will unconsciously will her lover's voice to be heard even if she knows him not to be present and, in consequence, constantly provoke herself to frustration and provide herself with ample amusement.

Her meeting of either the Tilneys, however, was delayed by the meeting of several acquaintances and former partners who she felt obliged to dance with. Her thoughts remained on Mr. Tilney and Margaret was therefore absent in mind from any sort of conversation; however, this did not last long for she was lucky to find Mr. William Witkens and his older sister, Miss Jane Witkens. Margaret found that she quite liked the Witkens family in general, and was more than happy when William requested the honor of dancing with her.

Though it may have been the kind of opportunity to replace Mr. Tilney's smart smiles in Margaret's mind with Mr. Witkens' handsome eyes, the opportunity was spoiled, for Margaret spotted Mr. Henry Tilney dancing with another young lady. Once again his smart smile, now being flashed at another woman, flooded her thoughts. She tried to speak with Mr. Tilney after the dance, but was prevented, as he would not quit his horribly lovely new partner who was wearing mid-quality muslin of all things!

She had greatly miscalculated her standing with Mr. Tilney; after her long ten-minute conversation between herself, Miss Eleanor, and Mr. Henry the night before, she had been sure that some wondrous and mystical connection had been established. Indeed, it had been so on her side. Margaret reproached herself for being such a naïve ignoramus, and decided that she would not allow her heart to be broken on Mr. Tilney's account.

Later on, as she sat by her fire, she resolved to think only of Mr. Witkens, and she did succeed for a time; however, it was all in vain and by the end of the night, she had established that she must pay Miss Tilney a visit.

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**Thanks for reading. If you can, please do review - your voices are so helpful to me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I know that this chapter is fairly short and not very detailed, but I wanted to put it up... maybe I'll improve it more and re-upload it later this week. Please review and tell me if you think it needs more details.**

Margaret's visit with Miss Eleanor Tilney was a very pleasant affair and they found out a shared interest in Shakespeare's plays. The two young women chatted for an hour and took tea together. When it was time for Margaret's departure, she invited Miss Tilney to visit Thyme Manor with her brother the next time he was in Bath; Eleanor was perfectly happy to accept, and promised to visit on the day after her brother was returned to Bath, which was expected to be the next Thursday.

A visit with Miss Tilney such as this was truly an encouraging one indeed, for Margaret's intimacy with her increased. With this in mind, Margaret began to make preparations for the Tilneys' visit at once.

She spoke to the steward of Thyme Manor and insisted that the house be absolutfely spotless come next Wednesday. Margaret also insisted that she go shopping every morning to acquire new dress-things and she absolutely insisted that Charles come along, for who would advise her what men like on a woman if he did not come? She busied herself around Bath for four mornings and did not visit the pump room or the park.

One morning, as she and Charles were walking from Edgar's buildings, she happened to spy a particularly innocent looking girl who was walking along with an older, handsomer girl. Margaret thought both of the young ladies looked strangely familiar and she ceased walking to study the girls' faces. With astonishment, she found that the younger girl was she who danced with Henry Tilney that evening in the Lower Rooms.

Margaret stared with furious envy as Henry's smart smile flooded her remembrances. Her jealousy increased as the mid-social standing of the girl became more apparent; hot tears threatened Margaret's countenance and she immediately set off towards home faster than Charles could manage as he was carrying Margaret's heavy parcels.

On her arrival home, Margaret was greeted with a note left by Mr. Witkens and his sister; they had called while Margaret was out, and the servant assured her that the two meant to call tomorrow. Margaret was too distressed to take notice, however, and went to her bedchamber directly. She would not come out until dinner when she had regained control of her envious feelings and irrational anger; surely she had no reason to believe that a young girl of inferior wealth and social consequence could have any hope when compared to another who was very wealthy and had every social advantage conceivable. Henry, being the smartest man in the world, would be sensible of this and couldn't possibly prefer any girl to Margaret.

Lord Thyme had invited an old friend and his family to dinner that evening. Admiral Walter Smith was a tall man whose success had secured him a grand estate in the north of England. In consequence became a wealthy man who saved more money than he spent. His wife, Mrs. Amelia Smith, was a pretty woman more than ten years the junior of her husband; she was a sensible lady who took great pleasure in exclaiming the good nature and accomplishments of her children to all her acquaintance. Her son, John, was a leading politician with a highly favored wife and beautiful infant son; her youngest daughter, Jane, spoke three different languages; and her eldest daughter, Ellen, was exquisite on the pianoforte. She was the only child present that evening for Jane was visiting her aunt in Hertfordshire and John had moved to the Americas several years previous.

Ellen Smith was a pretty, genteel girl who, though fairly short for her age, could not be considered anything less than angelic; she greatly distracted Margaret from her present agitation. The two young ladies found each other quite agreeable and their conversation after dinner was as follows:

"I think I heard your father say that your family will be leaving Bath in a fortnight?" inquired Margaret.

"Yes, indeed," answered Miss Smith. "We are to join my sister in Hertfordshire. Have you ever been to that part of England, Miss Thyme?"

"Once, but I was very small so I don't remember it very well. Is it a handsome place?"

"Oh yes, indeed. I like it best above any place in the world! There are so many pretty walks in Hertfordshire, which I am fond of, and the people throw many country dances."

"I am also fond of long walks. I should like to see Hertfordshire now, just on these basis; Hertfordshire sounds delightful."

"Well, do feel free to visit when we have gone; we shall be staying in the area for quite some time."

"Oh, thank you very much." After a short pause, Margaret took up a new subject. "My family will be going to see the theatre tomorrow night; do you enjoy the theatre, Miss Smith?"

"I must confess that I find little pleasure in the theatre; I infinitely prefer concerts."

"Truly? That is quite unusual!"

"Perhaps, but considering that I enjoy music more than anyone I've ever met, it may not be so strange."

And so their conversation kept on as they discussed music, dances, the lower rooms, and almost everything young ladies could hope to talk about in the course of one evening. At their departure from Thyme Manor, the Smiths had become very great friends with the Thymes; they had agreed to see each other at the Upper Rooms in a few evenings and Margaret had agreed to walk with Ellen the day after next. With such a plan exciting her heart, Miss Thyme went to sleep all happiness and, with the hopes of Mr. Witken's visit, she entertained hopes of being vastly diverted for many days together.

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to everyone who is reading my story! I never imagined that people would actually be interested in a story that doesn't even mention Pride and Predjudice, Mansfield Park, or Sense and Sensebility, so thank you so much for your interest. Your reviews are also very much appreciated, so if possible, continue to write them. Also, sorry that this chapter took so long - I had to sort out a few personal issues (spring break was a wreck - long story), but I'm back and I will try to update a bit more often than once every three weeks!**

The next morning brought the happy smiles and lively conversation of Mr. and Miss Witkens. They arrived at quarter to eleven and, after they had joined Margaret and her mother in the sitting room and tea was called for, many laughs and smiles were exchanged.

"Mr. Witkens," said Lady Thyme. "I have heard through town that you are to study at Oxford in two months. Is this so?"

"No, ma'am," replied he. "However, my younger brother, John, is planning to visit Oxford in a month. He has a friend there, a Mr. John Thorpe."

Mrs. Thyme then turned her attentions to Miss Witkens, and Mr. Witkens turned to Margaret. "Miss Thyme, I wanted to say that I have never had a better time in the Lower Rooms than when I danced with you there the other night."

Margaret looked in the direction of a suddenly very interesting painting on an opposite wall. "Then I am sorry for you," she replied dryly. "For I know that I dance quite ill. Yes, I'm sorry that you've had such a poor sampling of the Lower Rooms."

"'Quite ill' she says! Nonsense, for you dance better than any lady I've ever danced with. I look forward to the next time we dance."

Margaret gave the shortest polite reply and became intensely involved in her mother's conversation with Miss Witkens about if sprigged muslin was better worn in the spring or autumn. From this topic, they soon moved on to the lace curtains and the different styles of lace. On this matter, poor William could say nothing but attempted to sound intelligent by agreeing with Margaret on every matter.

These attentions were not over-looked by Lady Thyme, nor were the several glances at Margaret lost on her. It saddened Lady thyme that Margaret did not see William's attentions, for she herself quite liked Mr. Witkens and he was a suitable match for Margaret.

"What a fine pair they would make," said she to her husband later on. "He adores her most fervently, I am sure, for he took every occasion to sit and talk with her, and he agreed with her on every subject."

"Indeed?" inquired her husband as he turned the page of his newspaper.

"Oh, yes sir, it was so. Unfortunately, Margaret seemed quite blind to these attentions. I'm afraid that her heart has already been taken, which is most unfortunate because I am quite fond of Mr. Witkens and his family already. I hardly expect that any man could be more agreeable or more evenly matched for our dear daughter."

"You are mistaken, my dear. Mr. Wells would do just as well for Margaret."

"Oh, but sir, Mr. Wells is more than thirty and is much less amiable than Mr. Witkins."

"But Mr. Wells is of more social and economical consequence, which is always an important consideration to ladies."

"That may be, Mr. Thyme, but I am quite convinced that Mr. Witkens would make Margaret more happy. When you compare age and temper, as well as personality, you will find that William Witkens is more similar to Margaret than Mr. Wells. As to fortune, Margaret would be vastly contented with Mr. Witkens' 11,000 a-year, even if it is less than what she is used to here."

"It is possible," replied the mister. "However, it is as you said; Margaret has no particular regard for William Witkens. But don't despair, my dear, for she is not one-and-twenty and she will have no lack in suitors with her pretty face. She will not end up a spinster."

Their conversation ended thus and each retired to bed soon after. We shall skip the description of the following days and report only that Margaret and Miss Smith's walk was lovely and produced another two days later. Also, Margaret went on with her shopping in the mornings and began to prepare for her evening in the Upper Rooms, which was to take place in three days.

The evening came just when it should and Margaret was everything lovely; pink silk and white gems adored her fine figure. Her handsome features sparkled if one looked at her from certain angles and her dark eyes shone with lights reminiscent of the stars. Indeed, everything she was was lovely.

As soon as she had entered the Upper Rooms, she was "Hello-d" and "Good Evening-ed" by everyone that she saw, and Margaret was pleased to find Ellen Smith with ease. She was also delighted to see Miss Mariah Witkens and her brother Mr. John Witkens, only a year her senior. Margaret was pleased to dance with him and thought him a pleasing young man. He reminded her of William a little, though a little smaller and more formal. When their dance had ended, she found Ellen again and said to her, "Ellen, why are you not dancing? You seem determined not to dance tonight."

Ellen would have answered but for a gentleman's approach. "Miss Smith?" enquired he causing both Ellen and Margaret to turn and see Mr. Henry Tilney standing there with a slightly perturbed expression."

"Mr. Tilney!" exclaimed Margaret. "I did not expect you to be here tonight."

Mr. Tilney cordially bowed. "Miss. Thyme. I returned this morning and felt it my duty to call on the Upper Rooms."

"I did not know you were acquainted with Miss. Thyme," said Ellen. "Mr. Tilney, it was good of you to come tonight."

"I was wondering, Miss Smith, if you might grant me the honor of this dance?"

Margaret's eyes darted towards Ellen as she took Mr. Tilney's offered hand. She watched with mixed feelings as her friend danced with Henry. She could not but notice his solemn looks and the absence of the smart smile that Margaret had seen before. However, she felt that she could not be angry with Ellen; indeed, Margaret was happy that she had found such an amiable partner.

As Margaret continued in her noble meditations, her mother came to her. "Margaret, Mr. William Witkens is here." Margaret, with her mind still on Ellen's luck of partner, said nothing but nodded. "I heard him say," continued Lady Thyme, "that he means to dance with you."

Margaret, glancing around the room, only uttered that she should have no objection in dancing with him. Not five minutes later after this utterance, however, this non-objectionable was being attempted to be objected to, as the real non-objectionable was within her grasp; Ellen Smith's dance with Henry Tilney was nearing its end.

Unfortunately, it was not to be and Margaret found herself, somewhat unintentionally, standing up with William. Her confusion and slight bafflement were missed, though his ecstasy and enthusiasm were not. It was not long before William began to speak. "Miss Thyme, I have a question for you, but I am afraid of offending."

"Indeed?" Asked Margaret. "I am surprised."

"Oh, it is just a silly question, and nothing to be feared."

"If that is so, then do ask me your question, Mr. Witkens."

"Have you, by chance, read Udalfo?"

"No, I do not make it a habit to read questionable nonsense."  
"Questionable? You think Mrs. Radcliffe is questionable nonsense?"

"Yes, I do."

"Have you read her novels, Miss Thyme?"

"I have suffered through the first three chapters of Udalfo and I found her writing barbaric and intolerable."

"Miss Thyme, you speak strongly!"

"As I should, for I feel strongly and I do not see any reason for concealing my opinions to a good friend, such as you."

"So you disapprove of novels, then?"

"Of most. Are you a novel reader, Mr. Witkens?"

"No. You and I share the same opinion on this subject."

"And many others. May I ask why you felt the need to inquire after my interest in novels?"

"I felt the need for conversation as it would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together."

"And so you decided to ask about Udalfo, a novel that you yourself dislike?"

"My dear sisters are unabashed novel readers and Mariah is currently reading Udalfo. It seems as though she can think of nothing else."

"Perhaps she is proof, Mr. Witkens, that it is possible to read too many novels?"

"To be sure. But tell me, if you insist on not reading novels, what do you read?"

"Shakespeare, Cowper, Scott, and the like."  
"Indeed, it is as I suspected, Miss Thyme. I was sure that your disdain of novels would be matched by a love of literature. You see I now know you as well as if I were a glove on your hand!"

At this, Margaret could say nothing, and they continued to dance for a few minutes in agonizingly sweet silence, at least on the lady's part. Throughout the dance, they spoke a little of other matters, him with much enthusiasm, her with some exasperation, but with all cordiality and charm. When their dance had ended, Margaret's thoughts immediately returned to the securing of Henry for a partner. Unluckily for our heroine, she found that Eleanor had just sat down with two or three older ladies (she could not make out the exact number for there were many people between Margaret and the other party), so Margaret's hopes of engaging her in conversation were dashed before they could be given proper consideration.

After a while, Margaret was able to reunite with Ellen whose spirits were quite improved. "Margaret, my partner will be back soon; he has gone to his sister for a moment. I did not know that you were acquainted with Mr. Tilney; How do you know him?"  
"He is a distant relation of the Witkens family that my family is friends with. I've only known Mr. Tilney for about a week, but I am anxious to know him better."

Ellen smiled as she looked in Henry's direction. "He's very gentlemanlike and so very kind. I am glad we are friends, though he seems out of sorts tonight."

Margaret smiled as Mr. Tilney began to move in their direction. Ellen was right and Margaret did notice a slightly put out air about him tonight. Despite this, she enjoyed his company for the evening; to Margaret, he was courteous and kind, to Ellen, he was attentive and amusing. His humorous conduct and smart smiles delighted both his female companions. Though his features were only not quite handsome, Margaret could not help liking him even more than before and she once again felt that strange but magical connection to Henry.

To her delight, Mr. Tilney appealed to her for a dance, but, to her disdain, her father interrupted her enthusiastic acceptance with his enthusiastic wish to leave and so she was obliged to leave her heart's desire behind. After expressing her acute sorrow to Henry Tilney and her cheerless adieu to Ellen, Margaret left the Upper Rooms in low spirits with her father and mother. Both Lord and Lady Thyme noticed their daughter's sad disposition but said nothing until they arrived back at Thyme Manor; for this, Margaret was thankful and, on her arrival home, requested that Sarah, her servant, bring green tea to her bedchamber as soon as possible.

**Thanks again for reading, and, again, constructive and encouraging reviews are much appreciated.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mr. or Miss Tilney, John Thorpe, or Bath or the Upper Rooms... I own Margaret, the Witkens, the Thymes, etc...


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Well, I've got another chapter finished, and I'm even proud of this one. Not that I'm not proud of the rest of it, but this chapter I think is my favorite one so far - I had to scrap my first attempt and re-write the begining so now we've got a better story for all of my _enthusiasm _for good writing. I want to say thanks to Jakeline and Caroline Matheson for your excellent reviews that point out my errors and what not - so very appreciated. I guess I'm wierd because I like it when people actually tell me if there's something wrong with my story. Thank you to all of my dear reviewers and viewers - your support is very much appreciated!  
Caroline: I would answer your question about the name change, but if you're still confused after this chapter, then re-state it for me if you'll be so kind. I'm quite sure that, if you hadn't quite understood it from previous chapters, you'll get it in this one.**

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When the tea had been brought to Margaret and she was undressed, she sat next to the first and took out Romeo and Juliet; though it was not her favorite work, Margaret enjoyed the tragedy and drama of the beautiful story. On this occasion, however, she would not seek relaxation or comfort in the pages of poetry, but for a phrase, a line! Page by page, she carefully flipped them one by one. The fire cast a warm shadow over the paper and Margaret squinted with covetous curiosity that must be satisfied.

Finally! she had found the passage of interest:

_See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!  
__O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I  
__might touch that cheek!_

"Oh, how humiliating!" cried Margaret. "William Witkens, you are an uncontrollably enthusiastic flirt, whispering such things in my ear! The very thought of it, oh I cannot recall it without shame! I wish you would stop teasing me and leave me alone, wretched fool!" She continued in this distressed state for some time and reflected on the improper eagerness of Mr. Witkens. Though his reference to Romeo's speech was small, its memory in Margaret's mind was magnified for reasons unknown. Margaret did not care for William in _that _way, and though it was now known to Margaret that he cared for her, Margaret then determined that she would have Henry Tilney for a husband.

Though she had known him only a week, Henry's gentlemanlike and kind behavior towards herself was more than enough to encourage Margaret to fall in love. She also thought that she had seen Henry glance her way, but look in another direction when she glanced in his; surely this was a signal in her favor! Oh, and his smart smile! Henry always smiled around everyone except herself, and Margaret, on noticing this happy distinction, felt her heart flutter; they were in-love! she was absolutely sure of it. These signals confirmed all of Margaret's hopes, and her cheeks glowed with such ferocity that, when her mother came to her (ten minutes after Margaret's future was determined), she thought that her daughter had fallen ill.

"Oh, mother, I am well!" cried Margaret with ardent happiness. "I am better than I ever was before, for I love someone who loves me too! This evening confirmed it. He visits tomorrow and I am sure that he and his sister will stay past dinner. What joy will there be! Mother, I am so very happy, for I know beyond a doubt that Henry loves me! He really loves me, mother!"

Lady Thyme, startled by this passionately dramatic outburst, misplaced her ability to speak for several minutes. She seated herself on Margaret's bed and recollected herself for a moment before speaking. "Henry?"

"Yes, mother! Henry Tilney, a _very_ gentlemanlike man."

"Henry Tilney, son of General Tilney of Northanger Abbey?"

"Yes, the same. Do you know them?"

"No, I don't." After a short pause, Lady Thyme rose and stood by the fire. "Are you sure about this? If you love each other, then I am happy for you, but will you not consider William?"

"Do not speak of him; he is much too enthusiastic and is the most disagreeable flirtatious man I have ever met!"

"So you will not think of William?"

"Mother, I would never think of him, even if he was the last man in Bath!"

Her mother looked grimly into the fire, the warm light dancing and lighting the once-handsome features of her face. Though Margaret denied that she looked even a little like her mother, a third party would discern the same fine complexion, dark pretty eyes, and exquisite red lips. And, although Margaret was ignorant of the similarities between herself and her mother, she was certainly sensible of the perceived differences in character. She flattered herself that she was compassionate and feeling, though Margaret saw her mother as priggish and cold. She knew that her Lady Thyme had married her father for money and, on observing her parent's sadly indifferent situation, had decided years previous that she would marry for love. She had educated herself on the topic of love by reading the works of literature. Margaret treasured Shakespeare above all things and would follow her fellow heroines' examples by falling passionately in love with her hero and they would be happy for all of their days; with all of her heart, Margaret wished this.

To have this desperate desire satisfied at twenty years old was truly a marvel, for Margaret was of the opinion that True Love may not come about even once in a lifetime (this was the only opinion allowable to a true romantic heroine, of course!). She congratulated herself on the finding of her hero so early in life and, as she crawled into bed, her mind was already calculating the vast joy that would be hers.

She awoke the next morning from her dreams to the dawn's awakening. Why she had awakened so early, Margaret could not see any logical reason, so she attributed it to her heart's anxious desire to see Henry again. She breakfasted in high spirits and took extra time afterwards to study her dearest Shakespeare and become refreshed in the words describing what love could only be. Happy hours were they that Margaret spent pouring over the affirmations of her and Henry's love! Oh, that they had never ended and the Tilneys never came!

But come they did, to Margaret's intense pleasure. Henry and Eleanor arrived at half-past eleven and stayed for the shortest ten minutes that Margaret had ever experienced; she had expected great joy from Eleanor and shy attentiveness from Henry, but she was greeted with kind friendliness by her (which was not objectionable, but still a little disappointing), and distant civility by him. Margaret tried several times to engage him in conversation but soon had to give up and resign herself to speak mostly to Eleanor. She was friendly enough, but offended Margaret by, after her usual enquiries into her welfare and family, speaking only of the subjects that had been discussed on Margaret's visit the week previous and didn't ask anything new of Margaret.

However, even this conversation was limited for, as was previously stated, the Tilneys stayed only ten minutes. They said they had several errands to run and were obliged to be home before dinner. As they left, Eleanor apologized for their short visit and, though disappointed, Margaret graciously forgave them. In stark contrast to his sister's friendly manner, Henry Tilney said only, "Goodbye, Miss Thyme." This was the most he had spoken for the entire time he had been there and he said it so soullessly. Such and utterance in such a time! and then to leave without another word, without another look, or, worst of all! without another magical connection. To the contrary, this cold civility had uttered what his lips had not, just as his previous politeness had been thought to say what his behavior had not.

Margaret stared after the Tilneys from her doorstep as they walked down the street, away from Thyme Manor. Her heart broke as Henry turned the corner without even looking back. Margaret stood in front of her house for a moment. That moment became a minute. That minute became ten. After her attempt at staring Henry back onto the street had failed, Margaret walked inside as slowly as could be humanly possible and did not bother to shut the door behind her.

Presently, she walked into the library and sat on the ladder, staring out the window at the merry people on the street below. Cold silence crept into the room and gripped Margaret's consciousness. Silence swept over the space and subdued it; such absolute silence absorbed Margaret's heart without mercy and spewed into her substantial sorrow.

Quietly, she gazed into the streets of Bath. "So many people," uttered she. "Who am I, but one?" At this, she fell silent, surrendering to her thoughts; she saw no longer the numerous people, but the scarce times she had done anything for anyone other than herself; she had not succeeded in getting her man, the one thing she wanted most and, in consequence, perceived herself: the wretch, the spoilt wretch, the most wretched wretch of all! Until that moment, she had never known herself, but now she looked upon herself and could not see the once-perceived beauty, the fresh-gone sensibility, or the no-longer-imagined compassion. She would flatter herself no longer now that she could hide in the dark no longer and speak of herself to strangers from under that black veil.

She was selfish, but not this only, for Margaret could have forgiven herself that. Of her ignorance, she could plead innocence, for she was ignorant of it. Even her unbridled enthusiasm could be overlooked tolerably. It was not by her faults that Margaret felt shamed in this moment, but her previous pride in them! She had prided herself on being a self-sustaining, unaffected, and feeling girl, but that which was previously esteemed now ashamed Margaret, humbled her violently, and shone light on the arrogant self-regard that now infested her. Was there ever a time that she considered helping someone in need instead of buying new things for herself that she barely even wanted? Was there ever a time she stopped her speech making to enquire after her friend's family and their health? And if she had ever learnt of a friend's sick family member, had she even considered sending her own physician to her sick friend? No! She had not! She had never thought of helping even the family of her friends! "How cruel!" exclaimed Margaret in self-disgust. "How selfish! Never have I met someone worse than this! I, who would not help a friend, a neighbor! I have deceived myself! Oh, how I have deceived myself! Oh! Father in Heaven, have mercy!"

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